


Mon Doux Petit Ange

by Sev1970 (mk_malfoy)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-03-21
Updated: 2004-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Sev1970
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus says goodbye to Harry. Very sad! Yes, it is what you think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mon Doux Petit Ange

Written by Sev1970/MK Malfoy on March 21-23, 2004

This story switches between first person (present and thinking back) and third person… I think it is clear which is which.

~*~*~*~

**Mon Doux Petit Ange**

_"Severus, please… please, please don't leave me, don't leave me all alone. Not you, too. Who else has to die? First it was my parents, then Cedric, then Sirius, then Ron, and now you? No, no, I won't allow you to be taken from me, I won't I tell you, I won't!"_

_"Harry, listen to me, no – just listen: there is something I need to tell you. Please, Harry, shh: I love you."_

_"I love you, too, Severus, but you already knew that, didn't you?"_

_"Yes, it is a bit difficult to ignore your incessant Gryffindor-ish tenacity in getting my attention."_

_"You know you loved it."_

Those words were followed by what was undoubtedly the sweetest memory of my life: My Harry, you lowered your head down to meet mine, and cupped my face before kissing me gently on the lips. There was nothing passionate in that small kiss; however, it was the single most sensuous moment I have, or ever will, experience. I could feel the love that you were giving me, and even as I was too weak to respond, I was just as much a part of that kiss as you were.

Opening my eyes and shaking my head as I stare with tear-filled eyes and a tear-stained face at your motionless but beautiful body, I see the one person who was able to convince me that I was indeed deserving of love. You taught me how to live life and have fun, well, as much fun as I could have: I am Severus Snape, after all.

The reason I am living now, the reason I lived twenty years ago – you – are silenced forever, lying in a cedar coffin, clad in your finest deep green robes, the ones you and I wore on our wedding/bonding day, nineteen years ago. It isn't fair: You breathed life into me all those years ago, but when I tried to return the favor, it did not work, and I do not understand.

Maybe I should have tried harder; you would have kept trying, and would not have collapsed on the floor in a puddle of tears when your attempts failed. You would have continued trying. You were the tenacious one, after all.

_"Professor Snape, may I talk to you, please?"_

_"If you must, Potter; am I correct to assume this has to do with your less than substandard performance in my lessons as of late?"_

_"Yes, Sir. Er… well, I know you won't care or even understand, Professor, but Ron Weasley was my best friend, and seeing your best friend being killed in front of you does something to you. I can't eat, sleep, or do anything, and every time I close my eyes, I see him pleading with me, asking me to help him, and then I remember that I couldn't do anything and had to watch him die. He asked me to help, and I couldn't, I let him down, I—"_

_"Potter, even you should be able to understand that there was nothing you could do to save Mr. Weasley. Why you think you are the answer to everything that ails this world is beyond me. Perhaps if you allowed yourself to stop and look, you would realize that you are only a student, I, the teacher. If there is anything that needs to be done, I, or someone else will, you need not worry yourself. Your only job right now is to be a student, and might I say you are doing a very poor job of that."_

Do you remember that first talk we had, after Ron had been killed? That was when it happened; you changed me that day, and I think you changed as well. Things were never the same between us.

_"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. I honestly never thought I'd see the day when you would finally leave Hogwarts and take yourself away from me."_

Only you never did take yourself away from me, did you? No sooner had I said those words, when the alarms went off. I would have surely died if not for you. You knew I would never have told you how I felt if not for my thinking I was going to die. But oh Harry, if that is what it took me to have you in my life, I would do it the same way a million times over. While nursing me back to health, you moved your things to the dungeons, and I let you. But I have to laugh when I think about you and your insistence that we not do anything serious until we were certain this was permanent, as if anything is permanent. However, we did wait; we waited until we made us permanent. As I said: is anything permanent?

Watching you as you rubbed your eyes and as you were trying to wake up sitting at the breakfast table while drinking your morning cup of coffee each morning was always my favorite time of day. In a way you seemed so young, so innocent, but I knew, knew what those eyes had seen, knew the maturity that seeing such things caused. I knew that you and I were far more alike than I wanted to believe. It hurt me to see the sadness, but you always somehow allowed me to see the love in your eyes that you had for me. You were good at hiding your emotions during the day, just as I was, but in the mornings – our time together – it was the real you, and you allowed me to see that person, and it is that person I fell even deeper in love with then I already was.

Do you remember how nervous I was when I asked you to bond with me? I cried – me, Severus Snape – and you told me that if I could go from loathing to loving you as I had, and could cry over the realization of how deeply I felt, then that was someone who you wanted to love forever.

You made me the happiest—

You filled my life with so much joy and happiness, you—

Merlin, I miss you so much, Harry, I don't know how—

I am so sorry, Harry, so sorry. It should have been me; I saw him: saw the wand, saw him aiming it at you, and when I tried to move, I couldn't. That filthy— he killed you and there was not a thing I could do.

~*~*~*~

It had been two days since the final battle, well, the real final battle; there had been another 'final' battle...

Twenty years earlier Severus had nearly died after the then 'final battle' – would have if not for Harry. Voldemort had been killed, by Harry, just as the prophecy had said would happen, and after Severus had recovered – thanks to Harry's love – all had been blissfully happy for the two unlikely lovers for the next fifteen years.

Their Utopian existence ended with the death of Hermione Granger, five years earlier. She had been teaching Muggle Studies at Hogwarts when one day she vanished into thin air, only to reappear at the edge of the grounds a week later, dead. The scene was horrific, and even now, Severus could feel the hairs on the back of his neck prickling just thinking about what he had seen. Lying on her stomach had been a piece of parchment addressed to Harry and Severus.

_"Dearest Harry and Severus. No doubt the two of you think me dead: joke's on the two of you, wouldn't you say? Miss Granger was quite easy prey… ah how I have missed the thrill of seeing terror in someone's eyes. Oh yes, I am very much alive and am so looking forward to seeing the two of you squirming and begging for mercy, begging for your lives, just as your Mudblood friend did, Mr. Potter. Oh, I will bide my time; no sense in rushing things: I tend to enjoy the chase and to see those I care so much for, sweat and wonder when I will strike. Have no fear 'my boys,' I will strike, and this time, not even love will save either of you."_

~*~*~*~

I held you as you cried in my arms and asked me why this had to happen now of all times.

I thank Merlin for little things: I thank Merlin for you, and I thank Merlin for our only sense of stability in a demented world during that time.

~*~*~*~

Voldemort may have said he would bide his time, but the nightmare began immediately. From that moment on, there was no peace to be had by anyone: Voldemort's wrath was all-encompassing, and he spared no one to get to his intended targets, killing Albus and Minerva, along with Neville and Ginny, then a year later, it was Seamus, Luna, and Remus Lupin.

Then things quieted down over the next few years with little evidence that Voldemort was still alive.

Then, two days prior to this one, all hell broke loose: the wards of Hogwarts were compromised and Voldemort gained entrance to the castle. Somehow he was able to make his way to the Great Hall, where everyone was eating dinner. He did not make a scene, simply walked up to the High Table and stood there waiting for the two he wanted to recognize him. It didn't take long before the entire room was in an uproar and hexes were flying everywhere. Then without warning, Harry disappeared, and Severus saw him reappear directly behind the Dark Lord and aim his wand at the man's back before shouting out a string of curses. Slowly, the man with the red eyes turned around and when he was facing Harry, the young wizard yelled out one last curse and saw as the man before him crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Not a second later, Severus watched in horror as Lucius Malfoy aimed his wand at Harry and began shouting out words. Within a second, Harry had fallen to the ground and ceased to move.

Everything after Harry fell was a blur: Severus remembered screaming for Harry to wake up, and remembered holding the lifeless love of his, but then it all went black. He was later told that he had been given a calming potion to keep him from hyperventilating.

~*~*~*~

Damn them all; they could have let me stay with you, Harry. All I ever wanted was to be with you, and when you needed me the most, I wasn't there. But you shouldn't have been with me that evening, you should have been with— why didn't I say yes? If I had, you wouldn't have been there, and I would still have you. We would all still have you.

They told me to tell you goodbye, told me there isn't much time before everyone else will be coming to see you. I don't want to say goodbye and I don't want anyone else coming to see you. You never liked being the center of attention, but I can't keep them from you. All I ever wanted was to protect you. I thought that nothing could happen to you. I thought good things happened to good people, but you never did have many good things happen to you. Well, you would be yelling at me about now, saying that of course you had good things happen to you" two that come to mind immediately.

Why couldn't it have been me? I can't do this, Harry. I can't go on and live without you. But I have to, don't I? You would never forgive me if I joined you now, and you would be right to do so. I do love you more than life itself and the thought of going to bed at night without you by my side is utterly devastating to me. I do not think that I'll be able to go to sleep without you in my arms; we haven't slept apart from each other since the night we were bonded, and I don't think I can face being alone, I just can't, Harry.

They tell me I must get some rest, that there isn't only me to think about. I know they're right; I have to pull myself together. They are being practical, as you would be. You were always the practical one of the two of us, which is quite ironic since your antics during your school years at Hogwarts were anything but practical. Oh how I have loved watching you. When we bonded, I didn't think it possible to love you any more than that: You had given me your love, and you gave me love to give you. Before you, I didn't really understand what love was… I had no idea. But with you, it was so easy. How could anyone not love you, Harry? You are everything good in everything I see. You even thought me worthy of love: that in itself tells me volumes about you. You were the one to make me believe I was worthy… of anything, made me believe that I did deserve happiness and love and acceptance, and I finally get it, Harry. I get it: that happiness, love, and acceptance can be freely given, and you have given me that gift; I only hope I can be worthy of that gift. I will live my life to be worthy.

You made my huge, empty house our home when you moved in as my husband, and you made our warm and inviting home, Heaven on Earth when you gave me our son. He is our miracle, our sweet little miracle; you were my miracle, Harry. How am I to tell our sweet little Sirius that his daddy won't be coming home ever again? How does one explain to a four-year-old that they will never be hugged, kissed, or tucked in at night by their sweet little daddy? I can be Sirius's father, Harry, but I can never be his sweet little daddy: that was you, love, only you.

Molly has Sirius. I haven't seen him since you and I left together the morning it happened. Remember how excited he was when we told him that we were taking him to the Quidditch Match this weekend to see the Chudley Cannons? Even for a four-year-old, our son is as avid a fan as you were. His little green eyes lit up, and when I saw how happy he was, I fell in love with you all over again, if that is possible. Without you, there would never have been sweet little Sirius in my life. You have brought me so much joy, Harry James Potter, more than enough to get Sirius and me through this. It is going to be the most difficult task I have ever had to take on, but you are my husband, and he is our son. I owe the both of you everything I have, and will dedicate the rest of my life to making our son feel as loved and protected as I tried to make you feel. You certainly made me feel loved and protected.

I hear them coming. I don't want to go, Harry. How does one say goodbye to the reason they are living, the reason they lived, the reason they loved, the reason they love and the reason for every happiness in their life? You and Sirius are my life, my love, and my everything, Harry, and as Sirius would say, you are my sweet little daddy, always and forever. I love you, mon doux petit ange.

~*~*~*~

Severus leaned down and kissed the pale lips one final time, allowing his tears to drop onto his lover's face: the beautiful face he would now only be able to see in his memories. He had never cried this much. Harry had made him realize it was okay to cry, which he did on occasion, and since he had seen Harry fall, he had been inconsolable. As he wiped his face on his sleeve, he turned to leave and was met by Molly and his son standing in the doorway. Sirius's little hand was clutching Molly's hand tightly and looking up at the casket as his chin began to quiver. Severus thought he must be imagining this, but knew he wasn't. He had told Molly that he wanted to tell Sirius what had happened but he also knew that his son was very bright and probably would sense something was wrong. He told Molly that if his son asked if anything had happened to his daddy, she was to tell him the truth.

He knelt down, opened his arms, and his small son ran into them and buried his face in the heavy robes of his father. Severus heard his son crying softly and rocked him back and forth, and a few minutes later he thought he heard his son mumbling something about his sweet little daddy being an angel. A small smile broke out across his tear-stained face. He slowly nodded his head as he picked up his son and lifted the boy's chin so he could look into those small emerald eyes, ones that his daddy had given him.

"Yes, Sirius… your sweet little daddy is an angel: He is your angel and he is my angel. He will be our sweet little angel, Sirius, always." The little boy smiled as he reached up a small hand and wiped away a tear that was falling down his father's face.

~ finis ~

Mon doux petit ange – French translation of 'my sweet little angel'

The 'sweet little daddy' was used by a four-year-old boy I babysat one summer, for his father. They were very close and when the dad would pull into the driveway, the little boy would look out the window and say, "oh my sweet little daddy is home." A year later his dad was diagnosed with, and died, of cancer. So any time I think of young children losing a parent, especially a father, I think of that sweet little boy standing at the window, and I always wanted to somehow incorporate that memory into a story. This seemed to be the exact one to do so.


End file.
